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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28786410">Cold Heart; Thawed Love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoeniwitch/pseuds/Hoeniwitch'>Hoeniwitch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dialogue Heavy, Frostbite, Heavy Angst, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Near Death Experiences, Not Beta Read, Sickfic, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, This is an IRL fic (so if that makes you uncomfortable please don't read!), TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), aka mind any mistakes :(, sleepy bois inc - Freeform, we die like Tubbo at the festival</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:53:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,405</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28786410</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoeniwitch/pseuds/Hoeniwitch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The realization hit him with a shuddering breath, leaving his chest cold and eyes burning.<br/>“Oh god. Tommy—”<br/>Tommy hadn’t come back yet.<br/>Tommy hadn’t taken his phone.<br/>Tommy hadn’t taken a jacket.</p><p>Or: I got way too carried away writing this, so have a 9k two shot of Wil and Tom angst. :,)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>628</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Part one: Cold Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malaise_Incarnate/gifts">Malaise_Incarnate</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27885616">The Snow Chills My Bones, and I Don't Care.</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malaise_Incarnate/pseuds/Malaise_Incarnate">Malaise_Incarnate</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Quick notes!<br/>Both Tubbo and Techno have stated they don't want their real names used. Therefore just like in WFR, I won't use them.</p><p>Theo → Tubbo<br/>Damian/Ian → Techno<br/>Tommy’s last name was also changed out of respect to his boundaries. </p><p>While this is "continuation" of Malaise_Incarnate's amazing work, the universe IS different. Tommy is not adopted, Techno and Wil are roomies, and it's modern myct/streamer timeline. It can totally be read alone because of this (although please do read "The Snow Chills My Bones, and I Don't Care" it's *mwah*). Just like Malaise's this fic gets very dark and does have heavy topics which are stated below.</p><p>TW // Mentions of death, panic attacks, suicidal thoughts/intent, hospitals/hospital equipment, references to vomiting, heavy angst</p><p> </p><p>Get a bottle of water and a snack, take your time (it's a long one), and please enjoy! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>      “<em>Well, maybe you're just a failure then."</em></p><p>Wilbur’s own words rung inside his head, accompanied by the soft buzz of guilt. He had said that to <em>Tommy. </em>The loud —sometimes obnoxious— bright and bubbly Tommy. He felt the urge to strangle his past self burned under his skin, still hot with anger from their argument. Wilbur sat at the foot of the couch, back rounded and shoulders tense, he had half the mind to fix his posture. His left foot tapped with anxiety as more time dragged by. </p><p>Tommy hadn’t come back yet. </p><p>Although, Wilbur hadn’t worried at first. He understood Tommy was upset. He had once been a teenager, hot-headed and grudge-holding. He remembered when he would sit on the steps of his parent’s house after a fight before eventually going back inside once he cooled off.</p><p>
  <em>But Tommy wasn’t Wilbur.</em>
</p><p>Tommy was many things, but he wasn’t Wilbur.</p><p>It took five minutes for Wilbur to start pacing. </p><p>He wrung his hands as checked the slot to his apartment for the umpteenth time. He hated how he hoped that he’d see the teen pouting in the hallway no matter how many times he looked. He knew he’d taken a step too far, too personal, too real. He knew he wasn’t actually Tommy’s brother, but he also knew Tommy looked up to him— Tommy’s parents looked up to him.</p><p>They had put their trust in him enough to let him have a big part in Tommy’s life. <em>You may have just lost one of the best people you’ll ever know. </em>Wilbur tasted copper and unlatched his teeth from his lip. He hissed as the cut began to sting, he slid his tongue over it. He fucked up. He needed to apologise.</p><p>It took ten minutes for Wilbur to start worrying, like, seriously worrying. </p><p>He stood in the living room, phone held up to his ear. He tried to rationalize his internal meltdown, <em>He probably went back to his parent’s house or a friend’s or a shop...</em>A cold chill swept up his spine, guilt choked him as the sound of <em>his</em> new song (because of course, Tommyinnit would put “Your New Boyfriend” as his fucking ringtone) filtered through the apartment.</p><p>Wilbur looked over his shoulder at the lump of Tommy’s things. He had thrown them onto the couch upon initially entering the flat, haphazardly and childish. He dragged his feet across the hardwood floors, dread hung over him like a noose. He slipped his hand into the pocket of the red windbreaker. Wilbur couldn’t help when he flinched as his fingertips made contact with the buzzing device.</p><p>He pulled it from the pocket and was met with himself; The contact photo for him was them from the meetup, the one of Wilbur and Tommy on the beach stood awkwardly side by side. The realization hit him with a shuddered breath, leaving his chest cold and eyes burning.</p><p>      “Oh god. Tommy—”</p><p>
  <em>Tommy hadn’t come back yet.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tommy hadn’t taken his phone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tommy hadn’t taken a jacket. <br/>
</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>It took fifteen minutes for Wilbur to call Phil.</p><p>His breathing was laboured, and his voice cracked as he sputtered into the device. Phil was halfway out the door by the time Wil was able to speak properly. Kristin stood in the hallway watching as Phil's worried face contorted into relief, then confusion, and then quickly back into worry once more.</p><p>      “He’s go—gone, Phil<em>, I fucked up—”</em></p><p>      “Wil, mate, you need to calm down. What the hell is happening?”</p><p>      <em>“Tommy.”</em></p><p>The line went silent for a moment. Phil’s voice was faint, weighed down with worry as he forced his breathing to even out. He waved Kristin to grab his car keys.</p><p>      “Wil...what happened to Tommy?”</p><p>That was all it took for the floodgates to swing open; Wilbur broke and Phil was left speechless. Phil’s hands fumbled to pull on his shoes as he pressed the cellphone between his shoulder and ear.</p><p>      “We fought— Phil he’s gone. He <em>left</em>. I don’t know what to do—”</p><p>      “When did Tommy leave?”<br/>
      “About thirty minutes ago.”<br/>
      “Christ. He’s not in the hallway?”</p><p>      “<em>No</em>! You don’t think I’d fucking check if he was in the fucking hallway, Phil?”</p><p>Wilbur snapped, defensive and upset. His rubbed at his face one-handedly before pressing the palm into his eye socket. Guilt spread across his back, icy and consuming.</p><p>      “—I’m sorry.”</p><p>      “It’s okay mate, just tell me happened. I’m coming over right now...”</p><p>He couldn’t hear what Phil whispered afterwards, but he did hear the jingle of keys and car doors being opened.</p><p>      “He wanted to come over right? Uh, so he did after college, and he— fuck, Phil, he looked so upset, <em>god, </em>how didn’t notice?<em>—</em> takes out this fucking report card thing and he failed maths again, and his English is low too, and I…”</p><p>      <em>“Why don’t you try harder Tommy?”</em></p><p>
  <em>Wilbur would have seen the look of betrayal had he been looking at Tommy instead of staring at the paper in his hands. Tommy sneered. His eyebrows furrowed so deeply it seemed painful.</em>
</p><p>      <em>“I have been trying!” </em></p><p>      <em>“Well, obviously something isn’t right. Can’t you get a tutor? Maybe Tubbo could help—”</em></p><p>
  <em>Tommy’s tone was guarded, pale hands curled into fists at his sides. The heated words of Theo and his tussle from the morning (about the exact same thing nonetheless) ignited a new flame.</em>
</p><p>      <em>“I’ve been studying, and Tubbo’s been helping me, but it doesn’t fucking matter because it isn’t fucking working! I spent like five hours on this stupid algebra test and I got a C on it.”</em></p><p>
  <em>Wilbur had been annoyed, frustrated by Tommy’s excuses and whining. He threw the paper at the blond, who barely caught it as it fluttered in the air.</em>
</p><p>      "Well, maybe you're just a failure then."</p><p>
  <em>The moment the words left his lips, Wilbur desperately wanted to take them back. The shock that had spread across the teen’s face was heartbreaking, eyes wide and chin shaking. It quickly turned to embarrassment, and even quicker to anger. Tommy crumpled the report card, crushing it with his quivering hands. He threw it at Wil's chest, it hit the fabric of his sweater before falling to the floor harmlessly, but he might as well have been shot with the pain that bloomed.</em>
</p><p>      <em>“Fuck you, Wilbur.”</em></p><p>
  <em>Tommy turned and by the time his words registered in Wil’s head, the door was slamming shut. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wilbur bent down and picked up the wadded paper gently. He held it in his palms and frowned.</em>
</p><p>      “I didn’t mean to Phil, I was upset— Phil what do I do? He left his phone, fuck, he doesn’t have a jacket. He’s probably cold, he needs a jacket, Phil. He’ll freeze out there—”</p><p>      “William.”</p><p>Wilbur looked up from his position on the floor. — <em>When had he gotten on the floor? — </em> His hand fell from his ear, the phone falling into his lap as he slid his thumb to end the call. He hadn’t heard the door open. Phil’s hands touched Wilbur’s face, chin, shoulders, trying to find purchase on the numb boy in front of him. Wilbur leaned forward, head hitting the soft fabric on Phil’s chest.</p><p>The position was awkward, Wilbur too long and gangly to be twisted up so small and Phil too small compared to Wil’s long and gangly form to wrap him in his arms. Phil slid his hands from Wil’s shoulders, over his back, and up to his neck to gently digs his fingers into curly brown locks. Phil didn’t know if it was meant to comfort Wil or himself.</p><p>      “I don’t know where he is. Phil, he’s <em>gone</em>.”</p><p>The end of the sentence, a panic-riddled feverish thought that felt all too possible, was left unsaid: <em>I can’t let that be the last thing I said to him.</em></p><p>      “We’ll find him mate, I promise.”</p><p>      “What’s goin’ on…?”</p><p>Phil looked up as Techno walked into the living space. </p><p>      “Have you been here the whole time?”</p><p>      “Is— I was in my room. Headphones, uh— Is he okay?”</p><p>Techno sheepishly raised the headphones resting around his neck for emphasis. He not-so-subtly leaned forward, eyes flickered from Phil’s to Wilbur’s sunken form.</p><p>      “Tommy and Wil got into it.”</p><p>      “<em>What?”</em></p><p>Techno looked around, frowning. He stepped forward. His socked feet silent on the wood.</p><p>      “Where is—”</p><p>      “I don’t know!”</p><p>The shrill sound that ripped from Wilbur startled everyone.</p><p>      “...he left?” Techno mumbled quietly, cleared his throat and repeated himself. “He <em>left</em>?”</p><p>Wilbur could only nod, eyes screwed shut and hands twisting Phil’s coat. Phil directed his attention to Techno. He jutted his chin towards the bathroom, silent lips moving: ‘tissue.’ Techno stilled, clearly hesitant in leaving the room, before nodding. Phil slowly unhooked Wil’s hands from him, pulling away. Phil quietly hushed the younger as a sound, not unlike a cry, fell from Wil’s lips.</p><p>      “Wil, you’ve gotta’ get up mate. If we’re gonna’ find him you need to get up, come ‘on.”</p><p>Wilbur sniffled, nose raw and face blotchy. Both stood as Techno shuffled back in, looked between the two before holding out a wad of toilet roll. Wilbur took it and blew his nose.</p><p>      “Kristin is already driving around looking for him. She’ll call if anything happens.”</p><p>Both boys nodded, Wilbur looked up to meet Techno’s eyes. He leaned back on his heels as he tried to comprehend the look Techno was wearing. Techno didn't move as he opened his mouth to speak.</p><p>      “I’m goin’ to get my shoes. Be right back.”</p><p>Phil smiled and nodded, seemingly oblivious to the tension between the younger two. Wilbur broke the contact, turning away as he dipped his head to his shoulder. Heat collected on the back of his neck as embarrassment and anger festered. Techno sighed, turning away and walking back to his room. Phil led Wilbur and sat him down on the couch.</p><p>       “Have you called Tom’s mum?”</p><p>Wilbur looked over, fear coiling in his throat. He shakes his head, his voice suddenly missing. Phil, mildly aspirated, fumbled for his phone. He tossed it into Wil’s lap.</p><p>       “You need to tell her.”</p><p>       “How the fuck am I supposed to tell her Phil—”</p><p>       “I don’t know, but you need to figure it the fuck out. His parents need to know Wil, you can’t just <em>not</em> tell them!”</p><p>       “I know that! I <em>know </em>that…”</p><p>Wilbur’s hands shook as he pressed in the keys. <em>They’ll never let him near you again.</em> He squeezed his eyes shut as the rose the device to his ear. It rang, once twice, three times, and Wilbur wondered if he’d gotten lucky. He wouldn’t have to admit his mistakes if they didn’t answer. However, the universe seemed against him. He flinched as the voice of Tommy’s mother carried through.</p><p>       “William, pleasant surprise, is Thomas causing trouble?”</p><p>Her teasing tone felt like fire, licking at his jaw and neck drying his mouth as he began to speak.</p><p>       “Uh, no…but I am calling about Tommy…is he there? At home? With you?”</p><p>There was a pregnant silence, Wilbur found himself holding his breath.</p><p>       “I don’t believe so, er— Tommy? Are you home? — Just a…just a moment, I’ll check his room.”</p><p>Wil looked up as Techno entered from the hall arms crossed and shoes on, their eyes found each other instantly. Wilbur held his stare, as Tommy’s mother returned.</p><p>       “He’s not here, is he not there with you?”</p><p>       “No. We…” Wilbur paused; Techno’s gaze bared into him. Wil licked his lips. “We got into a fight, and— and he ran off.”</p><p>       “Oh god, how long has he been gone?”</p><p>       “About thirty minutes…he left his phone and jacket, so he couldn’t have gotten very far, but I thought I should call.”</p><p>Techno scoffed, unfolding his arms and walking towards the kitchen.</p><p>       “I can’t believe this is happening—Oh! Someone is at the door! Tom? Is that you?”</p><p>Wilbur straightened his back, eyes wide and mind racing.</p><p>       “Is it Tommy?” He said aloud, voice strained.</p><p>Phil perked up at the sound of Tommy’s name, turning to look at Wilbur. His face screamed for context, but Wil ignored him. There was shuffling, and Wilbur felt his heart drop. <em>Please be Tommy. Please for the love of God be Tommy.</em></p><p>       “Thomas’ father just came home…he said he didn’t see anyone while driving— Oh god, he’s not here! And the weather—”</p><p>Wilbur hung his head, ears ringing as it pushed everything out. <em>This can’t be happening. Tommy, where the fuck are you? </em>Phil’s phone dinged and he pulled the device away to check the message.</p><p>
  <em>Kristin: The weather is too bad to drive, I can’t see the road in front of me let alone a person. I’m coming over now, I’m sorry.</em>
</p><p>Wilbur didn’t register Phil taking the phone from his hand even as his voice filtered through the haze of panic. He stood, eyes down and shoulders tight, before making a beeline for the bathroom. His hands shook as he shut the door, forgetting to lock it entirely. He turned on the tap and, without waiting for the water to heat, threw a handful into his face. The cold was a welcome distraction as he fumbled to off the water. He waited as it dripped off his chin, dampening the collar of his sweater for his panic to settle.</p><p>It didn’t get a chance as the handle of the door twisted before being turned completely. The door swung open, revealing Techno. He stepped into the bathroom and pulled the door shut behind with a soft <em>click.</em> The two stared at each other once more, locked gazes of a silent battle. Wilbur frowned, breathing quick and damning. Techno didn’t speak, face placid and body language guarded. Wilbur was the one to start talking, voice too pinched to be confused for anything but guilt.</p><p>       “What do you want?”</p><p>        “You never should have fucking said that to him.”</p><p>It took a moment for Wil to realise exactly what Techno meant. His lips pulled into a snarl, suddenly he was an animal backed into a corner: feral and angry.</p><p>        “You didn’t even hear the conversation—”</p><p>        “Oh so, it’s a fucking <em>conversation</em> now? Not a fight? Or should we call it what that really was, you taking things too far—”</p><p>        “That’s fucking rich, you weren’t there. I -…I didn’t mean it like that.”</p><p>        “Like that? What the fuck are you talking about. You still said it, to a child— A child who happens to think you’re a fucking <em>deity</em>.”</p><p>Wilbur flinched at the anger in Techno’s voice.</p><p>        “He looks up to you so god damn much and you fucking have the audacity to say shit like that to him?”</p><p>        “He failed almost half his classes—” He tried to defend weakly.</p><p>Techno bared his teeth, matching Wilbur’s previous ferocity. He stepped forward, shoulders raised and face turning an awful shade of red.</p><p>        “I don’t give a shit! I dropped out of college. Are you goin’ call me a failure too? Huh?”</p><p>Wilbur gawked as he looked away; His eyes focused on the leaky faucet, trying to desperately squash his nerves down. Bile rose up to his throat, it coated his mouth with bitterness.</p><p>       “Fuck you, Ian.” He spat Techno’s real name a knife in both of their stomachs.</p><p>Techno scoffed, rolling his eyes before raising a hand to point at the other.</p><p>       “You—”</p><p>Wilbur cut him off as he smacked Techno’s hand away from him; Both instantly jumped to yell at each other.</p><p>       “Don’t fucking point me—”</p><p>       “Don’t fucking hit me—”</p><p>Techno took a step forward, forcing Wilbur to either step backwards or have him in his face. He steeled himself not wavering from his place, the two now head-to-head.</p><p>       “You had no right saying that to Tommy.”</p><p>       “You don’t think I regret it?”</p><p>       “I don’t know what to think about you right now."</p><p>       “Maybe start with fucking listening to me—"</p><p>At that moment the door busted open. Phil stood in the doorframe, face dark and eyes murderous.</p><p>       “The both of you need to <em>shut the fuck up</em>.” Phil shoved the two away from each other, separating them with his body. His voice was powerful and held more authority than either could even think to have. “Yes, Wil fucked up, but you doing this isn’t going to help <em>anything</em>. Tommy is still out there, so both of you grow the fuck up. Okay?”</p><p>Both boys stared at each other, Wilbur felt a familiar pressure behind his eyes. Techno’s face softened, for a moment, before he sighed.</p><p>       “Okay.”</p><p>Techno gaze dropped and Wil let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.</p><p>       “Okay.” He parroted.</p><p>Phil looked between the two before gesturing to the living room to which both followed without speaking. As they entered the living room, Kristin sat on the couch still in a heavy coat and red-nosed. She smiled warmly at all three men as she stood.</p><p>       “Hey.” She said softly, and Phil’s shoulders sagged. Phil walked over and picked up his phone, before turning to the others.</p><p>       “While you guys were being children, we messaged some friends around town.”</p><p>       “The weather seems to be easing up a little, it’s our best chance to look around.”</p><p>Wilbur nodded, already making his way to grab his coat. Techno stood in the same spot, waiting. Phil met his eyes and smiled.</p><p>       “I and Kristin are going to drive along the coast. You two look around the shops and playgrounds, places he’d run off to.”</p><p>Techno took his time thinking before also nodding and grabbing his coat. The group left the apartment and with a final parting, started the search for Tommy.</p>
<hr/><p>Time was running out; Everyone knew it. There hadn’t been so much as a sign of the boy. The weather wouldn’t stay calm forever. As the sky darkened more and more, hopes quickly began running low. Wilbur and Techno walked through alleyways, searched shops, and checked every nook and cranny big enough for a six-foot-one teenager.</p><p>Wilbur had taken to yelling the boy’s name at the top of his lungs, the way voice wavered was heart clenching. He didn’t care if he lost his voice if it meant they found Tommy he’d give up anything.</p><p>As they made their way back to the car from a corner store, Techno’s phone started to ring.</p><p>       “It’s Phil.”</p><p>       “Answer it!”</p><p>Techno shushed the British man, pressing the accept key and putting it on speaker.</p><p>       “Phil?” Techno questioned the breathing on the other end.</p><p>       “Damian? Hey— fuck, <em>they found him.</em>”</p><p>Both men stopped, numbed to the icy winds as the words hit them. Wilbur made a strangled sound and Techno took the phone off the speaker to raise it to his ear.</p><p>
  <em>       “Where?”</em>
</p><p>The drive to the primary school’s playground was dangerous, although Wilbur couldn’t care less as drove 20 miles over the speed limit. Tommy had managed to go almost six miles in the time of him leaving Wil’s apartment, he was barely a five-minute drive away the whole time. As the school came into view so did the flashing of an ambulance. Techno summarized both Wil’s and his feelings.</p><p>       “Oh, shit Tommy.”</p><p>Wilbur slammed on the brake as they got close enough. He elected to ignore Techno’s curses at the whiplash, fumbling with his seatbelt. His fingers were unable to cooperate, borderline numb from adrenaline. Once he finally got unhooked, he flew out of the car not even bothering to turn off the engine. His legs moved on their own, eyes searching for blond hair.</p><p>He barely registered Techno yelling after him, still trying to catch up. Wilbur was about to scream Tommy’s name when he finally noticed Phil.</p><p>Phil who was crouched next to a paramedic.</p><p>Phil who had tears in his eyes.</p><p>Phil who was holding someone’s hand.</p><p>Phil who was holding <em>Tommy’s </em>hand.</p><p>Wilbur never realized he could run that fast. His feet sunk into the soft snow, soaking the cuffs of his jeans. Although he couldn’t care less, he needed to get to Tommy. Phil was suddenly in front of him, hands on his chest as he forced himself to breath.</p><p>    “Phil, let me go, I need— Phil, I <em>need</em> to see him."</p><p>Phil looked over at him, face wet and eyes shimmering. Something about his expression struck fear in Wil’s very being. Wilbur tried to move past but Phil grabbed him by his forearms. He struggled against the grip, wild like a caught animal.</p><p><em>    “Wilbur—" </em>Phil tried to speak.</p><p>Wil ripped himself Phil’s grasp and ran forward to Tommy.</p><p>Thomas Sullivan was a lively boy. He had bright blue eyes and wild blond hair. His love of gaming left him paler than most, but he didn’t really think it mattered all that much. His favourite colour was red, evident in his abundance in red sleeved t-shirts. A trademark that he relished in. He had a laugh that could brighten a room instantly.</p><p>The boy that Wilbur stared down at in the snow was not that boy.</p><p>The boy Wilbur saw was not a lively boy. He had sunken eyes and dull frosted hair. His time in the snow had left him with a grey tint, skin sickly and dead. His nose and cheeks were bright red, which was a stark contrast to the deathly blue of his lips. He did not wear a red sleeved t-shirt. He laid completely still, body tensed from shock and freezing temperatures.</p><p>Wilbur Soot felt to his knees, too weak stand. His shoulders shook, chest heaving as he stared, unable to look away. He felt heat on his face and wiped at it. His hand came back wet. He reached out to touch the boy, fingers twitching— <em>This can’t be Tommy. This isn’t him; It can’t be. — </em>but he was pulled back by someone.</p><p>He tried to get away, but his back was pressed into a sturdy frame and arms locked around his chest holding him down. He thrashed, desperate to make sure the boy was real, to feel the icy skin under his fingers, to know if he was still alive. There was a shushing sound in his ear as he watched multiple paramedics load the boy onto a gurney. Wilbur wondered if it was too late.</p><p>An oxygen mask was placed over his mouth, and Wilbur took it as a sign he was alive and latched on. <em>You don’t put an oxygen mask on a corpse. </em>He realized the person holding him was Techno, arms securely around Wilbur’s waist. Wilbur slumped against the other’s chest, exhaustion burning his throat. He tried to speak but nothing came out.</p><p><em>They’re taking him away. </em>He wanted to yell. <em>We need to go with him. </em>Techno only shushed him, despite the fact Wil couldn’t make a sound if he tried. Phil walked over, eyes low and mouth pressed into a thin line.</p><p>    “They’re taking him to the hospital. He’s…he’s not responsive.”</p><p>Wilbur tried to control his emotions. He rationalized, lightheaded and slowly going numb in his toes. <em>Not responsive, doesn’t mean he’s dead. He’s just not responding. </em>The sound of his name being called pulled him from his head. He looked over, Phil inches from his face. His expression was worried, eyebrows drew together.</p><p>    “I called his parents they’re on the way…but they want you with him Wil.”</p><p>Wilbur made a non-committal sound from the back of his throat but nodded. Techno slowly removed his hold. Wil stood weak-kneed and threatening to fall over. Wilbur watched as they loaded him. A woman took a pair of scissors and cut down Tommy’s shirt, exposing his seldom moving chest. Then they covered Tommy with foil and blankets, precariously layering him in hopes of getting him warmed up. The doors are shut before Wilbur can see anything else.</p><p>Wilbur looked away. His eyes fell to indent Tommy made in the snow. He registered a hand on his shoulders and looked over. He smiled weakly at Techno, who only frowned deeper.</p><p>        “Come on Wil, I’m drivin’ you to the hospital.”</p><p>Wilbur let himself be led back to the car. Exhaustion covered his bones as he slid into the passenger seat. He didn’t realise he’s crying till Techno began mumbling comforting nothings.</p><p>        “Wil, it’s okay—”</p><p>        “No, it’s not fucking okay!” Wilbur argued, but it only drained him more as he slumped down. “I never should have said that to him. Ian, what if he doesn’t wake up? What if he dies? I don’t know if— what would I even...?— if I could live with myself if that happened—”</p><p>Techno slammed on the brakes. Wilbur shot forward, saved from a broken nose via dashboard collision only by his seatbelt locking. Wilbur looked over, waiting. There’s a breath, and then Techno started speaking.</p><p>        “Don’t fuckin’ say that. William, I swear to god, never fuckin’ say that again. Do you want to know what I think? I think you screwed up, and yes, I was angry at you. I was pissed because you told Tommy that, but him running off is not your fault. Him getting caught in the storm was not your fault. This is a shitty situation, with a shitty outcome. And if—” There a falter in Techno’s voice, pitched and wavering. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, knuckles white. “—Tommy…if he doesn’t wake up. That’s not your fault. So, don’t ever say shit like that, that— that you’ll <em>kill yourself </em>because holy shit I could not handle losing both of you. Neither could Phil.”</p><p>Wilbur didn’t look at Techno, but he nodded with his jaw clenched shut.</p><p>Techno started the car again. They drove to the hospital in silence.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And there it is, part one!</p><p>I very much enjoyed writing this. This was supposed to be a quick warm-up to get back into writing WFR, but instead, I spent 4 days on it. I moved to a new state and in the process lost my laptop so writing has been hard. Although, part two will be up hopefully soon!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Thawed Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It was only a theory, but as he stood watching the parents of his best friend— at one point he’d laugh at that statement: Tommyinnit, a sixteen-year-old being his best friend— fall apart he wondered what his butterfly wing was. </p><p>How far back did this tragedy go?</p><p>How long was this moment in the making, and what part did he have in it?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW // Mentions of death, panic attacks, suicidal thoughts/intent, hospitals/hospital equipment, references to vomiting, heavy angst</p><p>If any CC within this fic would like it taken down, I will do so gladly. &lt;3 </p><p>Get a bottle of water and a snack, take your time (it's a long one), and please enjoy! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As the two walked through the automatic doors of the hospital, Wilbur saw Phil and Kristin standing at the front desk. Wilbur called out Phil’s name, who turned and yelled in relief upon seeing the two.</p><p>        “Phil— Phil, what’s going on?”</p><p>        “Wil, they’re not telling us anything.”</p><p>        “<em> What </em>? Why not?”</p><p>Phil shrugged, obviously tired and very asparated. Wilbur walked up to the front desk and the woman’s strained smile faltered.</p><p>        “I’m here for Thomas Sullivan, he just came in—” Wilbur was cut off by a deep sigh.</p><p>        “Sir, my apologies, but just like I told Mr Watson unless you are family of the patient you cannot see him.”</p><p>        “I’m his brother—” Wilbur paused.<em> Can I even call myself that still? </em> He reiterated: “— his guardian, his mother told me to come, can I <em> please </em> see him?” The woman squinted and raised her eyebrows.</p><p>        “Just a moment Sir, please stay calm.” She twisted, her office chair creaking as she turned towards the computer.</p><p>She typed in a few keys. Her face lit up with pale blues as the monitor shifted. Wilbur watched, tensed as she took her time. She made a tight-lipped face before reaching over the phone. She dialled a number and raised it to her ear. Her face was calm, as she casually pressed another button on the dial pad. </p><p>Wilbur felt like screaming. He clenched his hands at his sides, digging crescents into his palms. The receptionist hummed before nodding then asked a few questions that Wilbur couldn’t care to listen to, and promptly hung up. She swivelled back to him.</p><p>        “Unfortunately, I can’t allow you to see Mr Sullivan until his parents arrive.”</p><p>Wilbur threw his head back, staring at the ceiling for a moment before accepting defeat. He felt pressure press against the back of his eyes and screwed his eyes shut.</p><p>        “Thank you.” He said through his teeth, voice raw.</p><p>He turned and looked at the three eagerly waiting faces. He wetted his lips, opened his mouth and then closed it. He settled for shaking his head solemnly. Kristin’s face dropped. She turned and hugged Phil, who buried his face into her hair, also clearly upset by the situation. </p><p>Techno’s shoulders fell before he walked outside. Wilbur walked to the rows of uncomfortable plastic chairs and sat down. He leaned over to rest his head into his hands, fingers pressed against his temples.</p><p>        “Wil, mate, you okay?”</p><p>Wilbur nodded. He sat up, back pressed into the support of the chair as he looked up at Phil. “Mhn-...jus’tired…”</p><p>As if on cue, Phil broke out into a long yawn. Wilbur followed quickly with one of his own, both chuckled.</p><p>        “It’s getting late. Go ahead and head home, I’ll…I’ll call if anything happens.”</p><p>        “I’m not just gonna’ leave you, dude, you need rest too.”</p><p>        “I can’t leave him, not now. I-…I just can’t.”</p><p>Phil nodded, something forlorn yet understanding about his expression. He clapped Wilbur on the back a few times, before walking over to Kristin and whispering to her. </p><p>She glanced at Wilbur, then back to Phil and nodded. He handed her the keys. As she exited, Techno reentered If anyone noticed the blotches under his eyes, no one mentioned it. Phil intercepted his stride towards the musician, gently grabbing his elbow.</p><p>        “What’s wrong?”</p><p>        “Go home, get some rest.”</p><p>Techno sputtered, face blank before his lips pulled down till he was frowning. He pulled away from Phil’s hold.</p><p>        “I’m not leaving him—”</p><p>        “Ian—”</p><p>        “He shouldn’t be alone, Phil, he’s…”</p><p>        “I know, but Wilbur knows what’s best for himself. He needs time.”</p><p>Techno looked over, eyes flickering over Wilbur as he tried to find a reason to stay. He couldn’t think of one. Techno made a strangled noise, torn. Phil hushed him.</p><p>        “Go home, get some rest.”</p><p>        “Go home, get some rest...” Techno repeated the older defeatedly.</p><p>Phil quickly hugged Techno, before walking to the exit. Techno watched him leave through the glass windows till the backlights disappeared out of the parking lot. He turned to stare at the pensive man. </p><p>He took a deep breath before he walked over, stopping once the other looked up.</p><p>        “I’m going home.” Wilbur’s eyes searched him, leaving Techno feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable. He reached out his hand. “Keys.”</p><p>Wil swallowed before he reached into his jacket pocket, producing a set of car keys. He held them over Techno’s outstretched hand but didn’t place them. He smiled softly.</p><p>        “Thank you, Techno.”</p><p>Techno nodded; It was more of a jut of his chin as to not risk too much emotion. Wilbur lowered the keys into his palm. Techno looked at the locked door which led to Tommy. <em> Their little brother. </em></p><p>        “He’s lucky.”</p><p>Wilbur froze, sparing a glance at the same doors. His voice was rough, overused and thick with confusion.</p><p>        “What do you—”</p><p>        “He’s lucky to have some like you in his life…to have you as his brother.” There’s a lull as if there was more to the sentence, but nothing fills the space. “I’ll see you later Wil.”</p><p>Techno was gone before Wil could even think of something to say.</p>
<hr/><p>It took Tommy's parents another thirty minutes to arrive. Tommy's mother rushed in, teary-eyed as she searched the lobby. It only took her a moment to find Wilbur, half-awake where he sat. </p><p>        “William! Oh my goodness, have you heard anything? Is he alright?"</p><p>Wilbur's head shot up at the sound, chest twisting into something painful. He stood, halted as the room tilted, before walking over to her.</p><p>        “They wouldn't tell us anything, let alone— let alone see him."</p><p>Tommy's mother nodded, though her mind was obviously on other things. She walked over to the receptionist who smiled politely. Wilbur frowned as his head began to ache. </p><p>Tommy's father stepped into his line of sight and Wil turned, his heart suddenly beating like a drum. <em> He's going to tell you you aren't allowed near him. That you can never see him again. That you're a terrible person— </em></p><p>        “Thank you."</p><p>Wilbur blinked. He felt his fingers tear at the bottom of his jumper, nails digging into the threads out of anxiety.</p><p>        "What-...why?" Tommy's father didn't meet his eyes, instead, he stared at his wife.</p><p>        “Thomas is an...odd boy. I don't have much in common with him, video games and he's, uh, streaming. I don't know much about it, but you...he looks up at you. You can give him something I never could. So...thank you, William Gold."</p><p>Wilbur felt his throat constrict; His tongue became too big for his mouth, so he settled for nodding. Tommy's father seemed to understand, giving him a solid pat on the shoulder before walking towards his wife. Wil watched as Tom's mother covered her mouth, before turning to Wilbur. She waved him over. Wil licked his lips, panic building in his gut. He walked over, Tommy's mother quickly took a hold of both his hands. Her gentle touch shocked his system. </p><p>        “They say he's okay but he's very weak. We're..." She quieted, choosing her words through sniffles. "We're going back to see him. Do you want to come with us?" </p><p>He felt himself nod, still unable to articulate without the fear of bursting into sobs. Tommy's mother rubbed his knuckles and smiled kindly. She let go of his hands to grab onto her husband, leaving Wil feeling terribly cold. </p><p>There was a sharp buzz sound and a red bulb above the metal doors lit up. They shifted a little before pivoting inward. Tommy's parents quickly entered. Wilbur had to take an extra-long stride to catch up. As they walked, he fumbled for his cell. The text was quick and dirty, and Wilbur wondered fleetingly if it was rude of him.</p><p>
  <em> Wilbur: Going in to see Tommy. </em>
</p><p>He had to ignore the multiple buzzes in his pocket as they entered an elevator. The ride up was tense. Wilbur found himself humming "Your New Boyfriend" under his breath to calm himself. </p><p>Wilbur Soot wasn't squeamish, by any means...however, standing in the doorframe of the boy he called a little brother's hospital room, he felt like vomiting.</p><p>Tommy was completely covered in thick blankets up to his chin. While Wil was sure that there was damage underneath all those layers of cotton and wool, Tommy's face was terrible one it’s own. </p><p>There were dark circles that completely surrounded his eyes, giving a sunken look to them. The bottom half of his face was concealed by a breathing mask. It left him looking far worse than he probably was, however the realisation that Tommy was being <em> forced to breath </em> hit Wil straight in his chest leaving him, ironically, breathless. </p><p>His blond hair was matted, cow-licked upward in a way that would be funny in any other circumstance. His cheeks were a rosy color, but upon further inspection the pin-prick dots where obviously frost burn. Wilbur noticed bandages around the boy’s neck peeking from under the blankets.</p><p>The three adults stood gawking, before Tommy’s mother let out a sob. She stumbled forward, knees crooked as she collapsed at the end of her son’s hospital bed. Tom’s father followed after his wife, gently placing his hand over hers which clung to the metal frame.</p><p> The man’s shoulders fell as he watched his son, silent tears dripped off his chin. Wilbur stood in the background, questioning every life decision he had made up to that point. </p>
<hr/><p>Wilbur loved to research. He has done so extensively on ghosts, aliens, alternative universes, so many strange and interesting things, but one that he often found himself going back to was the Butterfly Effect. The simple claim that something so small, seemingly insignificant, such as that of a butterfly’s wing flapping, could lead to something life-changing, downright catastrophic, like a tsunami. </p><p>It was only a theory, but as he stood watching the parents of his best friend— at one point he’d laugh at that statement: Tommyinnit, a sixteen-year-old being his best friend— fall apart he wondered what his butterfly wing was. </p><p>
  <em> How far back did this tragedy go? </em>
</p><p>How long was this moment in the making, and what part did he have in it? </p><p>Perhaps the moment they had met; That fateful day on the Earth SMP, as they sat behind computer screens laughing at dirty jokes and fictional allegancies. </p><p>Or the message from Tommy to Wil to join the DreamSMP because he was lonely.</p><p>Or the first day together irl with Phil and the others. WIlbur got to see that whole-heart-and-stomach laugh that Tommy was known for in person.</p><p>Or maybe when Tommy told him he’d gotten into a college not very far from Wilbur’s flat. They stayed up till early hours planning routes and things to do together.</p><p>Or when Techno finally mustered up the balls to actually fly out to them. Only to end up staying because he couldn’t bear leaving his friends, although he’d never admit it to anyone but Wil.</p><p>Or maybe there wasn’t a butterfly wing to be found, just the guilt of a man too scared to come to term with his mistakes.</p><p>There was a soft, but sharp knock on the door. Wilbur jumped as he turned, puffy eyes falling on who he could only assume was the doctor. The woman was short, with smooth black hair which she wore in a professional low ponytail over her shoulder. Her dress was a dark mature navy with a typical white coat over top.</p><p>She smiled softly, and when she stopped the wrinkles stayed. Wilbur shifted in place, before forcing a smile back at the woman. She turned her attention away from him, stepping in from the hallway. In her hands she held a clipboard, a decent stack of clean, crisp papers clamped down.</p><p>        “Mr and Mrs Sullivan?” The couple looked other as the woman’s face turned compassionate. Tommy’s father gently helped his wife to her feet as she wiped her face. The woman opened her mouth before stopping, she glanced over at Tommy, then at Wilbur before slowly lowering the clipboard to her hip.</p><p>        “Why don’t we go to the hallway, hmn?”</p><p>Tommy’s mother stilled, eyes drawn to her sleeping son. The doctor reached out, her hand resting on the woman’s shoulder.</p><p>        “It’ll just be for a moment. He’s safe now.”</p><p>Mrs Sullivan nodded slowly, the comforting words pulling her to her senses. She wiped her eyes once more and turned to Wilbur. Wil froze, a deer caught in headlights, as she spoke to him.</p><p>        “We’ll be right back William, dear...watch him—” There was a quick intake of breath, she calmed herself but her voice still came out wet. “— watch him for us, won’t you?”</p><p>Wilbur nodded, his muscles taut under his skin. He felt too tight and too stretched out at the same time. </p><p>Tommy’s parents followed the doctor out the room, and with the soft click of metal, Wilbur could only take it as a death sentence. </p><p>It took in far longer than he would’ve liked to move. His feet were seemingly stuck in place, unable to move from his spot in the background. A thought crossed his mind, a fleeting thing that left him shaking:</p><p>        <em> You’re afraid to hurt him, again, aren’t you? </em></p><p>Wil took one, two, three, steps forward. His eyes fixed on the IV cord running from out the blanket. He stopped. He opened his mouth, and yet nothing seemed to come out.</p><p>        <em> Blond hair. </em></p><p>He begged for an apology to pass his lips.</p><p>        <em> Blue eyes. </em></p><p>He thought of everything he would do if it meant he could keep Tommy in his life.</p><p>        <em> Pale skin. </em></p><p>He silently confessed, his sins spilling out of his chest and onto the lap of the sixteen-year-old comatose boy.</p><p>        <em> Bruised lips. </em></p><p>He wondered if he’d ever hear that laugh again.</p><p>The door opening broke him from his trance, and suddenly he could breathe. He took in a ragged breath, turning as the three entered in again. Another woman followed closely behind in nursing scrubs. She squeezed past the doctor, who nodded gently at her. She walked over to Tommy, and WIlbur had to drown the panic that rose in his throat. </p><p>He forced himself to keep his eyes on Tommy’s parents as she fiddled with dials and tubes. Tommy’s mother waved him over and he dragged his feet, the day’s events weighing him down. Her face fell soft at his appearance and she patted his shoulder. Somewhere in his mind he thought it should be <em> him </em> comforting <em> her </em>, not the other way around. </p><p>        “You should head home, you must be exhausted.”</p><p>Wilbur wanted to fight the concern, announce that he was fine, he wasn’t two seconds from breaking down, he could handle it. However, the look in her eyes, a look she no doubt often gave to Tommy when he was being stubborn, crumbled his resolve before it could even stake it’s ground. </p><p>He nodded and she hugged him. Her arms slid over his elbows, and it was very obvious who Tommy had gotten his height from. Although, she clearly had practice hugging those taller than her because it might have been one of the greatest Wil had ever had. </p><p>        “We’ll call you if anything happens.”</p><p>She spoke into his chest, motherly embrace consuming him in comfort as if she could take away the pain from the wretched day away with just her touch. He nodded once more, and as she pulled away her face was blotchy. </p><p>        “Get home safe, alright dear?”</p><p>Wilbur sniffled, nodded, and glanced over his shoulder. The fear of leaving the boy they had almost lost burned his skin with guilt. He dipped his head down, and before he could make a choice he might regret, he walked out of the hospital room.</p>
<hr/><p>It takes Techno eight minutes to arrive at the hospital’s car park. His hair was frazzled and clothes wrinkled as he stepped out of the car. Wilbur walked forward, dead on his feet.</p><p>        “Wil, what the f-fuck!? You text us and then don’t respond for an hour—” WIlbur paid no mind to the American, he opened the car door and sat with an <em> umph. </em> He stared forward, the heat from the var vent’s warming his aching bones. No matter what he did, he couldn’t get the sight of Tommy lying in that hospital bed out of his mind. The image seemed to be burned on the back of his eyelids: blond hair, blue <em> eyes </em> , <em> pale skin, bruised lips, blond hair, blue— </em>         </p><p>        “Wilbur?” </p><p>Wilbur snapped his head up, the feeling of something on his shoulder startling him. Concern and confusion swirled in those guarded brown eyes, Techno’s gaze made Wil realise how tired he truly was. His lips parted and he still found that his voice was gone. He settled for shaking his head. </p><p>Techno’s face turned dark for a moment and Wilbur felt fear burst from his pores.</p><p>        “He’s going to be okay...” The words slipped past him, sounding foregin to his ears. The only indication he had to prove he <em> had </em> in fact spoken was the instant softening of the other’s features. </p><p>Techno turned, hands flexed over the steering wheel. He made no move to put the car in drive, his fingers twitched against the leather. Wilbur felt his own hands fall, his nails picking at the edge of his sweater. The threads torn apart by his anxiety, he felt remorse for a moment as the idea of it ruined; It had been one of his favourites. </p><p>        “He’s gonna’ be okay.”</p><p>Techno’s voice was often considered dull, bland, or monotone<em> , </em> but many failed to see the other side of having such a voice. It was grounding, solid, and most importantly it made you feel like whatever he said was <em> true. </em>Hearing the words come from him made it seem plausible, not a half-baked attempt at comfort. </p><p>Wilbur nodded, which he seemed to be doing quite often in the last twenty-four hours. Techno’s hand shifted to the gear stick, Wilbur closed his eyes. </p><p>
  <em> Blond hair,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> blue eyes,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> pale skin, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> bruised lips. </em>
</p><p>He somehow knew he wouldn't rest easy that night.</p>
<hr/><p>The clock read a little after half past midnight by the time both boy’s bodies hit the couch. There was an eerie silence that hung over the duo, neither had the heart nor the energy to try to ease it. Wilbur shrugged off his coat, back protesting against his slouched posture.</p><p><em> Posture checks, high pitch laughs, blond hair, blue eyes, pale </em>—</p><p>Wilbur flinched as he was hit in the back of his head by a glove.</p><p>        “Hey.”</p><p>He turned and was met with Techno’s melancholic stare. Wilbur hummed warmly, throat clogged.</p><p>        “...want to sleep in here?”</p><p>Wilbur looked around the cold flat, despite nothing being changed it still felt wrong. He thought of his room, so close yet so far away. He nodded. </p><p>Techno left, only to return with a pile of blankets and pillows.</p>
<hr/><p>Wilbur’s retinas burned. The sound of Tommyinnit filled his headphones as he pressed his phone closer to face. Tommyinnit, Tommyoutit, Tommyvods, even a fucking highlights channel with a Schlatt reference for the name. He couldn’t stop himself as his auto-play spun around and around, playing vod after video, after clip, after compilation.</p><p>        <em> “Tommyinnit Speaks To Wilbur Soot For The First Time.” </em></p><p>He paused the video before it had a chance to begin. </p><p>Something dark seeped its way under his skin. It poisoned his insides till he found himself shoving off blankets, suddenly too hot for the warmth Techno had provided. The video was marked as one year ago, and yet WIlbur felt as if he had known the child for his whole life. Wilbur pressed the palms of his hands into the curve of his eye sockets, swirls and dots flickered across his vision. </p><p>He pulled his hands away and stared into the darkness of the apartment. Suddenly hyper aware of Techno sleeping to his right, he glanced over to make sure the man was still asleep. He saw the slow rise and fall of man’s chest, but nothing else. Wil took a breath, then laid back down. </p><p>He pressed play.</p>
<hr/><p>Wilbur wasn’t completely sure what time his phone began to ring. The sky was a soft haze of blues and yellows, drifting pale light through the curtains. He could hear the sound of birds tweeting, celebrating their survival of the winter blast. </p><p>He almost missed it, wearily staring at the ceiling. His eyelids heavy enough to fall shut, before the onslaught of buzzing and ringing roused him awake. He dipped his hands into the blankets and fumbled around for his phone.</p><p>He quickly pressed the answer key and raised it to his ear.</p><p>        “Hello?” His voice is thick with exhaustion, syllables slurring together into a sleep-deprived noise.</p><p>        “William Gold?”</p><p>That was all it took for the exhaustion to drain from his body, nerves on end and shaking. “Yes, who—” He’s already on his feet, grabbing his boots, jacket, keys, wallet, blonde, blue, pale, bruised— ”is this?”</p><p>        “Hello,” The woman’s voice turned cheerful. “Mr Gold, this is Royal Sussex County Hospital, I’m calling on the behalf of Mrs Sullivian. She wanted me to inform you that Thomas Sullivan has woken up and is stable—”</p><p>        “Holy sh-shit! Thank god, can I-...can I come see him?”</p><p>        “Visiting hours begins at 3pm and ends around 8pm.”</p><p>Wilbur’s stomach dropped, his hands falling from the laces of his shoes. Techno stared at him, visibly angered at being woken up.</p><p>        “What’s going on?” Techno asked confused. Wil shook his head to hush him.</p><p>        “So...I can’t come see h-him?” Techno’s posture shot straight, realization dawning over his features as Wil spoke.</p><p>        “I’m...afraid not, Sir. However, I can—...hmn? Oh, what?” Her voice became distant, before it returned once again. “Just a moment, please. My apologies.” The line suddenly cut to hold, elevator music poured through the speakers leaving Wil feeling completely drained.</p><p>        “Wil?”</p><p>        “He woke up.” Wilbur’s voice is soft, too tired for joy.</p><p>        “Fuck— I mean, he’s awake? Right now? Can we see him?”</p><p>Wilbur shook his head, a thickness building in this throat. </p><p>        “<em> What </em>? Why not, that’s...that’s bullshit!” Techno stood, the blankets fell to pile where he originally sat. Wilbur can only shrug his shoulders. </p><p>The line was picked back up, Wilbur snapped his hand up to listen.</p><p>        “Hello? Mr Gold?”</p><p>        “Y-...yes? I’m still here.” He swallowed around the bubble threatening to turn him silent.</p><p>        “To answer your question again, yes. You can come see him.” He could hear the sympathetic smile from just her tone.</p><p>        “Really?” He breathed the word out.</p><p>        “Yes, sir. Come up whenever and just tell the miss at the counter, she’ll give you a special wrist band.”</p><p>        “Okay, yes, got it. Thank you so much.” Wilbur felt like crying, heat rising to his cheekbones.</p><p>        “No problem, Mr Gold. Have a good day.” </p><p>        “You...you as well.” The call ended with a quiet <em> beep </em>, and Wilbur sprung into action once more. </p><p>Techno looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak. Wilbur took a shuddering breath, licked his lips, and smiled weakly. “Get your shoes on.”</p>
<hr/><p>The hospital looked different in the daylight. Possibly because when the group had first arrived, Wilbur hadn’t thought to look around very much. The duo walked in the facility, Wilbur quickly beelined to the front desk. The woman is different, Wilbur took it as a blessing.</p><p>        “Hi, um. I’m here for Tommy Sullivan. My name is—”</p><p>        “Mr Gold?” Her voice is familiar and he realised it was the woman on the phone.</p><p>        “Yes, I believe I spoke to you over the phone.”</p><p>        “You did indeed. I’ll call Mr Sullivan’s room and get his mother down here for you.” Wilbur nodded, face thankful before he turned to Techno. </p><p>        “She’s bringing Tom’s mum down.” Wilbur rang his hands together, the hospital’s septic and cold atmosphere overwhelming. The two waited patiently, Wilbur walking back over to the counter to get his bright blue hospital band before returning to his seat next to Techno. They both stood as the doors entering the main wing of the hospital buzzed. They quickly opened and revealed Tommy’s mother. She shot forward to the two men, enveloping Wilbur in a hug and giving Techno a loving smile.</p><p>        “I’m so glad you came, I got worried they wouldn’t let you.”</p><p>        “I thought they wouldn’t, but…” Wilbur smiled, holding up his arm that held the wrist band. </p><p>Mrs Sullivan nodded, her face softened as she started speaking.</p><p>        “He woke up around seven, the poor boy had no idea what was happening.” Tom’s mother folded her hands at her waist. “He’s asleep again.”</p><p>Wilbur’s shoulders slumped. <em> You fucking missed it. </em></p><p>        “What have the doctors said?” Techno took the charge. </p><p>        “He’s lucky, they all keep telling me. For how long he was out there, he could have…” Her voice cracked. Neither made her continue. “...why don’t we go see him, hmn?” </p><p>Wilbur nodded, the small group moved forward towards the doors. The nurse smiled, before furrowing her eyebrows. </p><p>        “I’m sorry, but only two at a time…” Her voice was completely sincere.</p><p>Tommy’s mother turned to the boys. “Why don’t you both head up and see him?” Techno jumped in before Wilbur could speak.</p><p>        “I’ll stay here, I should call Phil anyhow. He’s probably worried sick.”</p><p>Wilbur stared at Techno as Tommy’s mother spoke.</p><p>        “Are you sure dear? It’s no trouble to me—”</p><p>        “No, really. It’s okay.” His eyes never left Wil’s, who knew nothing could convince the stubborn streamer.</p><p>        “Thank you Damian.” Mrs Sullivan hummed, gently gripping his arm. Techno nodded.</p><p>        “Thanks.” Wilbur said softly, Techno smiled.</p>
<hr/><p>Wilbur Soot stood at the bedside of the sixteen-year-old boy, the only thing indicating life was the slow rise and fall of the blankets that covered his chest. Mrs Sullivan stood near the door, watching with tender eyes. </p><p>        “I’m going to get some breakfast...would, would you like something?”</p><p>Wil looked up, trance broken. “Coffee, that's all...Thank you.” Tommy’s mother nodded, and slowly walked out into the hall. Wilbur sighed deeply, a weak shaken sound passed through his lips. He walked over to the opposing wall and grabbed the sturdy wooden chair. </p><p>He picked it up and tried to make as little noise as possible as he awkwardly walked backwards. He sat it down next to Tommy’s bed. Upon sitting down the cushion deflated under his weight with a small wheeze. Wil sniffled.</p><p>        “I—”</p><p>His lips parted, but his voice came short as his eyes dropped to the bed. At some point, most likely when he had woken up, his arms had been taken from under the covers and put at his sides. His arms were wrapped in thick bandages up to his shoulder joint under his armpit. His knuckles were layered with gauze and tape, but his hand was uncovered. </p><p>Wilbur stared, eyes unable to look away. He felt a pressure built at his spine and released he was slouching. He laughed, thick and wet sounding. </p><p>        “I’m so fucking sorry.” It slipped past the quiet sobs, his chest hiccuping as he bowed his head. “I’m so sorry Tommy.” There was no reply, obviously. Wilbur reached out, hand shaking, but stopped before he made contact. He desperately needed to know, to feel, to have that certainty. Even so, he was <em> terrified. </em></p><p>Terrified of the cold, the lack of life, that pale, pale skin, his blonde hair matted, blue eyes so dull, his face, his cheeks, his laugh, his lips bloody,<em> dead, blue, blonde, pale, bruised, red, red, red— </em></p><p>His knuckle brushed Tommy’s thumb and his breath hitched in his throat. </p><p>
  <em> He wasn’t cold. </em>
</p><p>His fingers twitched as he gently pried Tommy’s apart to intertwine them with his own. Sorrow spilled from his throat, leaving him raw and shattered. </p><p>        “I’ll be better, Toms, I swear. I’ll— I’ll be a good brother. Give me another chance, please—...”</p>
<hr/><p>Tommy’s mother walked into her son’s hospital room. She paused as she took in the scene before her. Wilbur had fallen asleep, head resting on Tommy’s thigh. His face was peaceful, sleep finally winning him over, in a battle that Wil had fought valiantly, no doubt. </p><p>The boys’ soft breathing gave her a comfort she never knew she needed. </p><p>As quietly as she could, she set Wilbur’s coffee on the nightstand. She took one of many blankets the hospital had provided, unfurled it and gently draped it over the older’s content form.</p><p>She smiled, and after a softly patting Wil’s head, exited the room.</p><p>They both needed some rest. </p>
<hr/><p>Wilbur stirred, vision blurry and body heavy. He slowly sat up, back protesting at the movement. He stretched a little, and glanced around.</p><p>Multiple bodies stood on the far end of the room, huddled together as they talked softly amongst themselves. One figure looked over and noticed the set of eyes of the group. The figure gently tapped another blob’s shoulder, who glanced over as well. The mass moved forward and as they got closer Wilbur finally reconsidered them as Phil. </p><p>        “Hey mate…”</p><p>Wilbur made a noncommittal sound from the back of his throat, and went to get up. Phil stopped him, voice edging on concern. </p><p>        “Nothing’s happened, get some more sleep dude.”</p><p>        “Hmn…” That was all it took for Wilbur to lay his head back down and drift off once more.</p><p>Phil smiled.</p>
<hr/><p>Phil placed his hand on Wilbur’s shoulder and roused the brunet awake. He hummed softly in acknowledgement. </p><p>        “Hey, Wil, mate. We’re going out for lunch, want to join?”</p><p>Wilbur lifted his head and watched as Tommy’s mother grabbed her bag and whispered to Kristen. Techno stood by the door, jacket folded over his arm. Wilbur yawned.</p><p>        “I’m good...thanks, though.”</p><p>Phil nodded, and pulled away.</p><p>        “I’ll grab something for you, be back later.”</p><p>Wilbur yawned again, jaw locking for a moment. He winced. “Okay.”</p><p>Wilbur stretched again and watched as the group left with hushed goodbyes.</p><p>He doesn’t remember falling asleep again.</p>
<hr/><p>It took a moment for Wilbur to register his surroundings. The hospital was still alive with noise, nurses walking, machines buzzing, people talking. Although a few particular things had stuck out to him.</p><p>The sound of coughing. The shifting of blankets. The feeling of something in his hair.</p><p>The moment he <em> did </em>realise, he felt his body freeze up. There was a deep breath and then groaning as the aching boy pushed himself up. Wilbur felt as thin fingers fell from his hair. </p><p>Wil lifted his head, and was met with a gasp.</p><p>        <em> Blond hair. </em></p><p>He dreamt of report cards, butterfly wings, and cold coffee.</p><p>        <em> Blue eyes. </em></p><p>He thought of everything he could say to make it all better.</p><p>        <em> Pale skin. </em></p><p>He watched as the boy, a very lively boy at that, smiled down at him.</p><p>        <em> Bruised lips. </em></p><p>        “Wilby?”</p><p>Despite everything up until that point, Wilbur was sure it would be okay.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ta da! I hope it was worth a little bit of wait. </p><p>I had a lot of fun (and tears) writing this! Hopefully I'll be able to get started on WFR again, pog.<br/>Again thank you to Malaise_Incarnate for writing tscmbaidc. It was a pleasure to read and to write this for you! </p><p>There were a few fun references, including one for another author on here known for Tommy angst. </p><p>I might make a little series for the aftermath as a fun side-fic-type-thing for when I have writer’s block, if that's something people would want to read?? :0</p><p>edit (02/23): 300 kudos!? Oh my goodness, thank you all so much!!! That's absolutely insane, just wow. Thank you!</p><p>edit (04/03): 500 kudos!!!! Thank you guys!? I’m so happy, that’s amazing! :D &lt;3<br/>Also join my discord, pog? https://discord.gg/pUqzY9U8MT</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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